


Okay, So I Might Owe You an Explanation

by IndigoFudge



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Blood Loss, F/M, Recovery, Stanley Uris Lives, Stanley Uris Loves Patricia Blum Uris, Stanley Uris-centric, Suicide Attempt, ambulance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoFudge/pseuds/IndigoFudge
Summary: Stanley Uris slits his wrists in the bathtub. Patricia Uris finds him just in time. While the ambulance is on its way, Stanley takes the time to explain some things.
Relationships: Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Okay, So I Might Owe You an Explanation

**Author's Note:**

> MASSIVE TW FOR S**CIDE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan really said "❤️escapism❤️"

When you're dying, you have plenty of time to think things over. 

Of course, this depends on many factors, such as the location and method of death.

Since Stanley slit his wrists in his bathtub, he realizes this about three minutes after he sets down the razor.

Blood is dripping from his forearms and tears are dripping down his cheeks. _Everything is in order_ , he thinks. _The letters are stacked on my desk, and they explain all of this to the Losers. Hopefully they'll understand my decision. Hopefully Patty does, too._

_Patty..._

_She couldn't understand_

_Why would she understand_

_I didn't_ _tell_

_I didn't tell her anything about Derry_

_Patty doesn't understand_

_She won't u_ _nderstand_

_She needs to understand she needs to know she needs to_

_I need to_

Suddenly Stan wants to get out of the bathtub. He wants to wrap his arms in bandages and wipe up the floor and give Patty the explanation she deserves. They can sit down over a nice cup of tea and have a long, long discussion. All he has to do is stand up, easy peasy. But..

But.

He can't get out of the tub. He tries, but his limbs feel like lead. He can barely keep his eyes open. His pulse is slowing down slowing down slowing

down

And it hits Stan that he is going to die tonight, and there's nothing he can do to stop it. It makes his heart clench in his chest. _Patty_

_she loves me, she really does_

_and I love her very much_

_Patty_

_I'm never going to see her_ _again_

_she'll find my corpse in the the tub, dead eyes open and staring at the ceiling, forearms sliced from the elbow to the wrist_

_oh. Oh._

_She'll cry for weeks_

_she won't be able to_

_forget_

_The sight will cement itself in her brain and she'll_

_oh_

_she'll kill herself too_

_and it will be_ _my fault_

_my fault because i was too scared and weak to help my friends_

_my_ _fault_

_Patty-_

"Patty," Stan says, his lips clumsy. "Patty!" He's trying to yell, but it just comes out as a mumble. Spots swim and dance in front of his eyeballs. 

"Patty!" He tries again, forcing the name from his mouth. "Pat...Patty..."

Then he can't speak anymore. His mouth is like a machine that won't work.

His lungs aren't working, either. 

It does feel like he's falling down into a dark space, blackness swarming all around him. It's nice. The stars make the shape of a turtle, and the turtle says hullo. _Hullo,_ thinks Stan. _It's not every day that I meet a Big Space Turtle. But you are looking very dapper, Very Dapper Indeed,_ and Stan realizes why he's morphed into talking like Winnie the Pooh, it's because-

* * *

_-he doesn't normally like things that don't make sense. But Winnie the Pooh is different. Eeyore is his favorite, of course; blue has always been Stan's best color. Now, if he had toys, and if they came to life, he would most certainly be terrified. He only likes The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh because they're_ fictional _toys having_ fictional _adventures_.

_He'll take the book outside sometimes and read it underneath his tree in the backyard, whispering the words as he goes along because he can't quite figure out how to read in his head yet. Tigger makes him think of his friend Richie; Piglet makes him think of his friend Eddie; Rabbit makes him think of his very best friend Bill. And he himself is Eeyore, moseying along - he likes that word, moseying - dressed in blue._

_When his dad gets yell-y and crabby, Stan just reads the book and if he closes his eyes then he'll be inside it. At night when he's-_

* * *

-tired, he's so tired, he just wants to sleep.

"Stan?!"

Someone's yelling, and that is decidedly not nice. _Who has chosen to wake me up from my long nap,_ he thinks. _I have been Rudely Awakened_ _and I don't care for it at all. Five more minutes? Five more minutes, and then I will get out of bed and face the day, I promise._

"Stan! Stanley! Oh!"

Now he's being pulled out of the void. He can feel someone's warm arms around him, which is more than nice, it's _wonderful_ , because he is so cold. Why isn't he wearing a jacket? He should have worn one out today, the weatherman said it would be Very Chilly, and now he is paying the price for it.

"Stanley, please open your eyes! Please! I'm right here! I called the ambulance!"

 _Do I have to?_ Stan meant to think that inside of his own mind, but apparently he says it out loud, because the voice says:

"Yes, you do, _please_ do, I don't want to lose you! Please just open your eyes! Yes! That's it, Stanley!"

He doesn't remember opening his eyes, but they're open, because he can see a blurry face above him. The voice must belong to this face.

And then a thought comes to him -

_Patty -_

And now he's Stanley again, Pooh and Eeyore lost into the depths of his mind. He says "I need to tell you something, and I need you to believe me without question." 

Stan is slurring the words, his tongue thick in his mouth, but she understands.

"No, you wait until we get to the hospital, alright?" A hand begins stroking his hair. 

Stan smiles, as much as he can muster, which isn't a lot. "No. Can't let other people hear." He tries his best to clear the smoke that fogs his head. "My hometown... is Derry. Maine. I had good friends there... the Losers."

Patty stifles a sob. Her hand lets go of Stan's and disappears from sight, but comes back into view seconds later holding a pair of shorts. She begins putting them on him. "Why can't you let other people hear about that?"

"There was... something there." Stanley's thoughts are muddled. "A lady."

"Did you love her?" Patty tries to sound indifferent, but hurt is evident in her voice.

"No," mumbles Stan. "No, she was scary, and... in a painting... and she had a flute." _Something else, there's something_

_else_

_too, something_

_dark and_

~~_bad_ ~~

_evil._

Ice creeps into Stan's veins. "A clown. There was a clown."

_Oh but I feel fine_

_I'm okay I can_ _stand up_

_I can talk_

_I feel fine_

_I feel_

_sick i feel sick i feel_ dead _i feel_ tired _i feel_ Bad 

"A clown?" Patty asks.

Stanley's heartbeat stutters. Was it always this loud in his ears? "He took kids. Almost took me. 'S why I have scars on the sides of my head." He swallows. "We fought It... thought we killed It... but It's back."

"Is that why you cut- why you did this?"

"Mhm." His head feels empty. He could have sworn that skulls are supposed to have brains in them. He also could have sworn that you were supposed to be able to feel your fingers and your toes, but he's unable to. 

Sirens.

"Stanley? Stanley, come on, stay with me!"

He closes his eyes.


End file.
